Salute to the Serpents
by RoseGabriel
Summary: The bang on the door, the fear that her mother had followed them, and instead rounding the corner to find something much worse—Jughead in a Southside Serpents jacket. Betty heard his name slipping out from between her lips and when he looked back at her, his head jerking around, startled, there’d been fear in his eyes, too, only not fear of them, fear of her. *Completed*
1. Chapter I

Seeing the inside of FP's trailer looking cleaner, tidier, more inhabitable than it had in months, Betty had guessed that Jughead had some idea of where he wanted the evening to go. They had been alone, really alone and inside and safe like they hadn't been before, and she'd felt the minute the door closed them in that something electric leaped between them and linked them, buzzing, together. She'd sighed contentedly into the possibilities and kissed him open-mouth, twisting her hands in his hair and smiling against him when he'd lifted her up onto the kitchen counter; she'd pulled her shirt off over her head and pressed greedily against his hard, warm chest. Then the bang on the door, the fear that her mother had followed them, and instead rounding the corner to find something that was much worse—Jughead in a Southside Serpents jacket. Betty had felt her stomach go cold and had heard his name slipping out from between her lips and when he looked back at her, his head jerking around, startled, there'd been fear in his eyes, too, only not fear of the Serpents—fear of her.

Betty disappeared back around the corner and picked up her discarded clothes on the way to the bathroom. She could hear low murmurs behind her—the Serpents apologizing for the clear interruption—and she shut them out with the bathroom door. She redressed and studied herself hard in the mirror. Her face was unfamiliar to her. It was flushed with desire—her eyes dewy and her hair loose and wild—and she regarded her reflection as the stranger that it was. She heard the trailer door close and then there was silence. Betty turned the door handle incrementally and stepped back out onto the carpeted hallway. Jughead was standing just in the door, looking down at himself in the jacket. He looked up at Betty when she reentered and slowly shrugged out of the jacket, letting it drop heavily to the floor with a dull thud.

"Is that really what you want?" she whispered, unable to keep the revulsion from her voice. She nodded toward where the leather crumpled stiffly. "I mean—" she stammered, taking a step forward. "Are you actually going to wear that?"

Jughead stiffened at her tone and his mouth tightened. "Is that a problem?"

"Um yeah, are you serious? You're going to throw in with them? After everything they've done to your dad?"

"What is your deal, Betty, it's just a jacket," he sneered, flicking his hair from his eyes. He shifted his weight to one side and leered at her, mean, like he always was when he felt backed into a corner. Betty felt hot, angry tears in her eyes and knew she was too emotional but didn't stop.

"I don't believe this. You're the one who always goes on and on about how we're not our parents and then the first change you get you're just like your dad."

"Hey," Jughead said tightly, stepping toward her. "What's wrong with my dad? Just a few hours ago you were defending him to the whole town and now he's scum? You just said you weren't going to give up on him."

"He's not scum, but he's made bad choices, Juggie. You of all people should know that."

"Yeah, Betty," he spit her name like a curse. "I do know that. I don't need you lecturing me about it."

Betty was shaking her head before he finished, tears flinging from her cheeks. "Then what are you thinking? Look at yourself!"

Jughead stooped and tore the jacket up from the floor and pulled it back on roughly. "What, just because I put this jacket on means I'm going to turn out just like my dad? That's what you think of me? It's just a damn jacket, Betty. Get over it."

"No, it's not just a jacket. I can't believe you're being like this." She crossed her arms over her chest with a huff.

"Like what? Like who, Betty, like him?"

"The Serpents are drug dealers and murderers!"

"No, the Blossoms are drug dealers and murderers."

"They both are! They all are!"

"Just what is it that you're saying?" Jughead leaned toward her, over her, the vein in his forehead pulsing, his mouth in a snarl. "If I wear this jacket you don't want to be with me anymore? Just like that?"

"Well I just," Betty dropped her arms and looked away, angrily wiping a tear away with one fist. "I don't see how I could be with you, even if I wanted to. Even though I want to." She looked back at him earnestly and reached out for his hands and took them in hers and searched him face desperately. "I love you, Juggie. I want to be with you. I want you to be with me."

"And I can't be with you if I'm with the Serpents, right?"

"I don't know. I guess not. No. I have no idea how to be with someone who would chose to be associated with them."

Jughead pulled his hands out of hers and glared. "These people are the only ones in town who don't want to stone me right now. They're all I have."

"That isn't true! You have me, you have Archie and Veronica and—"

"No, Betty. No. I'm keeping the jacket."

There was a thick silence. Both breathed heavily. Betty's breathing hitched as she sniffled.

"That can't be what you want. Please don't do this."

"If you walk out that door right now, it'll be because you chose to, not because of anything I did." He stepped away from her and back from the door, backing into the far corner of the trailer. "Go ahead. No one's keeping you here."

"Fine." Her voice was low but just as determined as his was. "Fine, Jughead. You pretend this is out of your hands. You tell yourself you couldn't keep me from running out of here. But I know and you know that you didn't want to be with me enough and that's why I had to go."

She pulled the door open with enough force to shake the whole trailer and ran down the steps and across the gravel, out into the late night and home.


	2. Chapter II

Three days passed and they didn't speak. It hurt. Betty would lie awake at night, turn her back to her bedroom window, and will him to appear there like he had once before, but he never did. More than once she scrolled through her phone to his number, but she couldn't bring herself to call. She didn't know what to say even if he did decide to pick up. She didn't want him to be a Serpent, to prove everyone else right, to affirm her parents' opinion that he was a loser, bad news. But she didn't want to lose him either. She thought in the beginning that maybe she could go back to the way things had been only a few short months before, to being alone. But by that third day she knew she couldn't. She knew it wasn't about being alone, but about being without him. So even though she didn't know how to reconcile the space growing between them, on the fourth day, a Tuesday, Betty hurried out of the high school as the final bell rang and crossed town to FP's trailer.

It was still cold, snow on the ground as it had been when she'd last been there, only now it had melted and refrozen so that the whole trailer park was like a skating rink. Betty had shuffle along with her hands out to either side to steady herself. When FP's trailer came into view, Jughead's truck was parked in front of it as usual. But parked beside it was an old maroon Cadillac with rust growing up the sides. She stopped dead where she was and thought about turning around, but she'd already come so far in the cold. She couldn't think of who might be there. She'd never seen the car before. Betty continued to pick carefully forward until she got to the car, and then she placed her gloved hands gingerly against its side and peered in the window. The backseat was full of trash, and the dash was littered with receipts and straw wrappers too. A single strand of black beads with a cross dangling from the end was twisted around the rearview mirror. Betty's breath clouded the glass and she had to smudge it away with the side of her hand. It was only upon looking in again that she noticed the clear tube of dark lipstick in the cup holder.

She realized then that she could hear low voices coming from the trailer and ducked down where she was between the two cars, turning one ear toward the door, straining to hear. One of the voices was Jughead's, to be sure, but the other was too hard to make out. She crept around the front of the Cadillac and closer to the door, but just as she was reaching the porch the voices became suddenly louder as the door was pulled open. Betty stopped so suddenly she almost slipped, the cold air hard in her throat, but steadied herself froze where she was by the corner of the porch. A girl was in the doorway with her back facing out. She had dark purple hair—almost black—that was shaved away on one side and braided up into a sort of mohawk. On the exposed skin of the shaved side, a snake had been tattooed curling around her ear. There were silver studs all the way up the outside of her ear. She was in a ribbed black tank top that gripped her body and dipped low on her chest. Around her hips was a thick black belt and she wore ripped jeans and biker boots. There was a black watch on her wrist and a ring like a snake on the hand nearest to Betty. Clearly she was a Serpent, someone Jughead had met at Southside High, most likely. She was rough looking, but not ugly. She had turned back into the trailer because Jughead was handing her something—her leather jacket. Betty felt her face reddening as she wondered why she was dressed in only a tank top in the dead of winter, and why there had been need for her to take her jacket off in the trailer. Still, her turned back gave Betty enough time to lunge back behind Jughead's truck so that when the girl got into her Cadillac and drove off—after exchanging waves with Jughead—Betty wasn't spotted. Her chest tightened uncomfortably when she looked up to Jughead standing in the open doorway, his hand raised to say goodbye.

She wanted to tuck herself under his already outstretched arm and burrow into his gray sweater and feel warm and safe like she had before. She wanted to wrap her arms and her legs around him as she had before and press herself against him and feel his heart beat against hers. But instead she stayed where she was, cold breath clouding in front of her, and when he turned back in and closed the door, Betty turned too and went home.

She ate her dinner in silence, with Polly shooting a few apologetic glances her way throughout as if to show that she could tell something was wrong. When Betty was on her bed later, books spread around her in a half-circle, Polly knocked timidly on her door.

"Betty?"

"Come in."

Polly stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She smiled her sweet smile and walked across the room to sit opposite Betty on her bed. Betty reached quickly to move her homework out of the way.

"Thanks," Polly said, and settled down with one leg still on the floor and her hands resting at the top of her pregnant belly.

"Betts, I'm worried about you. I can tell something is wrong. What is it?"

"It's nothing, Polly, really. Nothing to worry about."

Polly raised an eyebrow and reached a hand out for her sister's. "You know you can tell me anything. After everything you've done for me, the least I can do is listen. Besides…" she ducked her head to catch Betty's eye. "I've noticed that we haven't seen Jughead around for a few days. Did you guys have a fight?"

Betty laughed a little and looked down, shaking her head. "I guess I can't get anything by you, Polly."

"You never could."

"No, I never could." Betty took a deep breath and blew it out. "Yeah…we had a fight."

"What about?" Polly squeezed her hand and then pulled away.

"The Serpents, I guess. They came to FP's trailer after the anniversary celebration."

"TheSerpentswere there? That's scary."

"I dunno," Betty shrugged, "I guess so. They were there for Jughead, to let him know that they were going to take care of him while his dad's in jail."

"Woah." Polly's eyes were wide. Her hands rubbed lightly against her swollen stomach as if of their own volition, without her permission.

"Yeah," Betty agreed. "They gave him this jacket—a Serpent jacket—and he put it on and we got in this big fight because I don't want him to be like them and, I don't know, it kinda seems like he wants to be."

"Well they are kind of like family to him." Polly said gently.

Betty's head shot up and she looked hurt. "You too? You're going to defend them?"

"No, of course not. If not for the Serpents, Jason's death would have been solved much more quickly. But, Betty," she took her hand again. "Jughead must feel really alone right now. I know how scared I was when it felt like me and these babies were on our own with no one even caring what happened to us. I would have turned to anyone who showed even the slightest kindness—fortunately, I had you."

"Well Jughead has me, too! I just feel like he's pushing me away and embracing this thing I'm totally against."

"You and Jughead are complicated, Betts," Polly soothed. "You've always been a little mismatched, but in a good way. At some point, you were bound to come up against something like this. Only the two of you can decide if your differences are going to keep you from being together." Polly stood up and reached out to finger the end of Betty's ponytail affectionately. "All I know, Betty, is that if Jason were alive, nothing could keep me from him. Nothing ever did. Nothing but death itself."

Betty stood to give her sister a hug. "I'm sorry, Polly. I know you miss him."

"I do. And that's why it hurts me to see you throwing your relationship away over a Serpents jacket. He hasn't done anything wrong or changed in any way. He's just embracing a side of himself he hasn't before. That doesn't mean he can't continue embracing you, too."

Polly started backing toward the door. "Besides," she said. "I've seen him outside your window for the last three nights."

"What?"

"Dad moved the ladder or I bet he would've come up. But I've seen him leaning against the shed looking up at your window. He still loves you, Betty. And I know you love him."

Betty smiled, then laughed a little. "Why didn't you tell me that you'd seen him?"

"I'm telling you now! Besides, it seemed like something the two of you needed to work out on your own."

"Except that you came in here just now and got involved."

"Well, hey," Polly grinned at her sister. "No one's perfect."

Betty laughed again. "Polly…will you help me with one more thing?"

"Of course! What is it?"

"Well you've seen Grease, right?"


	3. Chapter III

The next day, at lunch time, Jughead was slumped over his usual table with his new usual crowd. There was an open book pinned under his left hand but he was mostly engaged in conversation with those around him. There was a half-eaten square of soggy pizza on his Styrofoam tray and the scrapings from a scoop of mac and cheese. It was loud in the high-ceilinged room though it often felt like no one in the entirety of the student body spoke above an insolent grumble. Across from him was Grit, a pale, greasy blond with huge shoulders that towered over most of the other students. He was hunched forward picking slivers of apple peel from under his nails with a toothpick and then returning it to his mouth.

"All I'm saying," he was saying, "is that I dunno why we have to read all those depressing books in English class when our lives are already depressing enough. What's the point of them, anyway? 'Life sucks and then you die'—hey, thanks for the life lesson."

Jughead smiled and shook his head but didn't interrupt. He took a swig of chocolate milk.

"Like thatOutsidersshit," he continued. "What the hell was that all about?"

"I think they were trying to 'relate' to us," Jughead said.

"Well that's bullshit," Grit grumbled, his eyes trailing the length of the cafeteria behind Jughead, stopping at something, widening. "Woah," he said. "Who isthat?"

Jughead turned to looked.

It was a girl—tall, thin—with short black hair in a bob that curled just under her chin and bangs fringing her light blue eyes, which were rimmed with thick black eyeliner. Her lips were bright red. There was a narrow strip of velvet tied tightly around her throat and a large bejeweled cross hung down to brush against the lacy top of a black bustier

The bustier left most of her midriff exposed. She wore a black leather mini skirt that swung from side to side with her gait as she walked. It seemed to Jughead that she was moving in slow motion as her thigh-high black boots clicked across the cafeteria floor. Then, as his eyes swung back up to hers, he realized she was looking at him, moving in slow motion toward him, and that it was Betty. He stood up quickly, nearly tripping over the bench behind him and spun back to face her just as she reached him.

"Hi, Juggie," she said with a sultry red pout. Grit stood up behind him.

"Shit, Jughead," he said. "You know this girl?" he sounded impressed.

"Betty, what are you doing?" Jughead hissed. "What are youwearing? Everyone's staring."

"Don't you like it?" Betty asked, draping her arms around his neck and leaning against him.

"I like it," Grit said from over Jughead's shoulder. Betty tipped her head to see around Jughead's. She extended one manicured hand from his neck and offered it to Grit.

"Betty Cooper."

Grit took her hand in his big, rough one, one knee on the tabletop in order to reach her. "Liam Crane," he said. "

"Liam?" Jughead demanded, yanking Betty's arms from around his neck and pushing her back, turning on Grit.

"Hey, to her it's Liam," Grit said.

Betty smiled. "A pleasure to meet you," she said.

"You're Jughead's girlfriend," he said. Betty nodded. "Shit," Grit said and grinned, shaking his head. He reached out to clap Jughead on the shoulder. "Nice, buddy," he said. Jughead's whole body lurched under the force of Grit's hand. He was scowling deeply.

"Let's go, Betty," he said between gritted teeth, and took the top of her arm to lead her out of the room, yanking his book bag up onto his other shoulder as they walked out. Betty hurried to keep up in heels she wasn't used to, noticing that many students were, as he'd said, staring. She swallowed hard. Jughead led her out of the cafeteria, down the hall, around the corner, past the metal detectors, out the front doors, and down the steps into the slushy cold. Betty's body shivered violently as soon as the wind licked her exposed skin.

"Jughead, wait, slow down," she begged. "Stop."

He did stop, released her and spun to face her. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded. Betty crossed her arms over her chest and dipped her chin. She could see that he was embarrassed and angry.

"I thought maybe if I could be different things would be okay between us."

"Different? I don't want you different, I wantyou. This isn't you."

"Well I…look, I saw you with someone."

Jughead tilted his head quizzically.

"She was leaving your trailer the other day. She was dark and pretty and nothing like me and I just thought—"

Understanding flickered across his face and he put his hands on her shoulders. "You saw Cassi leaving, that was just Cassi. She gave me a ride home because my truck broke down."

Betty felt relief flooding in but she scanned the parking lot behind him to confirm and realized she didn't see his truck. "Oh," she answered, shrinking back a little.

"You saw someone else leaving my trailer and thought you'd pull a Sandy Olsson?"

Betty was shivering but her face was hot.

"What were you doing there anyway?" Jughead persisted. Betty was way past thinking she'd made a mistake. She felt cold and ridiculous and embarrassed and she took a shaky step back, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry I did this, Juggie, I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"Hey," he reached out for her hand and pulled her back. He looked her over briefly and then shrugged out of his Serpents jacket and held it out for her. Betty hesitated for just a moment and then gratefully slid her arms into it. Jughead rubbed flat palms over her arms in an attempt to help warm her. "Just talk to me, Betts," he said gently in a low voice.

"I was there to fix things," she stammered. "I just wanted you back."

His hands stalled on her arms and then resumed rubbing. "You did?"

"Yes."

"And coming here today was because…"

"Because I still do."

"Do what?"

"Want you back. I don't know why but I thought, at the time, that this was the way to do that. To show you."

Jughead's expression had lightened and he looked down at her with his mouth starting to twitch up at the sides.

"Show me what?" he asked, and then nodded down toward her exposed and lifted breasts and raised an eyebrow. Betty choked out a laugh and swatted at him as he also laughed a bright, ice-shattering Jughead laugh. She reached her hand up to touch his cheek and he leaned into it.

"I wanted to show you that I'm willing to be whatever you need me to be and that I'm willing to accept whatever you are. You were there for me when no one else was, during everything, during Polly and my parents and the threats on my locker and everything. And I turned my back on you right away." Jughead started to protest but she put her fingertips lightly over his lips and shook her head. "If I'm going to be with you, I have to embrace all of you, and that's what I'm going to do. I don't care if you want to be a Serpent, as long as you still want to be my boyfriend, too." There was a moment's pause as she searched his eyes, which were dark but soft, and then he kissed the fingers pressed over his mouth and reached up to remove her hand. "I never stopped wanting to be your boyfriend," he said with a smile.

Betty leaned up to rest her chin on his shoulder and they wrapped their arms around each other.

"This Betty is much taller," Jughead said, his breath hot in her ear.

"Yes," she laughed.

He leaned back but kept his arms resting lightly on her hips.

"You look good in my jacket," he smirked.

Betty blushed and ducked her head. "Stop teasing me, Juggie."

"I'm not teasing. This Betty…she looks good. Not that Betty Betty doesn't look good, too. It's just…different."

"I know, okay? It was stupid."

He was beaming down at her. "It was weird." Something caught on his face and he raised his hands up to the black wig, hooking his fingers under it and lifting it up. "There's just this one part that isn't quite right." He shoved the wig into his back pocket and reached back up for the tight bun on her head, unwinding it so that her usual blonde curls bounced down to her shoulders. He widened his hand to force the hair tie onto his own wrist and then fingered a strand of Betty's hair.

"That's better," he said. "Perfect."

He dipped his head and kissed her, then he pulled her into him again and put his lips to her ear.

"I love you."

Betty shook with cold and relief. "I love you, too, Juggie. I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too." He tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her again.

"I'm sorry I ruined your lunch," she said sheepishly, nodding toward the school.

"You might have ruined my lunch," he answered, "but you made my afternoon. Come on."

Jughead ran his hand down the length of her arm until he found her hand and wrapped it in his own. Then he pulled her toward the parking lot.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"How did you get here?" he asked.

"I took my mom's car."

He looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. "Took?"

"Didn't even ask," Betty beamed.

"Give me the keys."


	4. Chapter IV

Jughead drove them across the tracks to FP's trailer.

"How are things at your foster home?" Betty asked. "Why aren't we going there?"

"Eh," he shrugged without taking his eyes from the road. "They're alright. There's like five of us there so they let me come to Dad's still to write in peace and quiet."

"That's nice of them. My own parents don't give me that much space."

"Yeah, well they do pry a lot. They always want to know where I am and where I'm going and who with and when I'm getting back. I'm not used to it. It's just been me for so long without anyone to answer to."

Betty touched Jughead's shoulder and smiled sympathetically.

"Still," Jughead continued, "they're nice. They bought me a bunch of new stuff. Some clothes and a new backpack and everything."

Betty looked over his familiar gray sweater and black jeans, then down to his heavy boots and back up to his hat. Feeling her eyes Jughead laughed a little.

"It wasn't me," he explained. Then, grinning, he added, "they just couldn't nail my signature style."

"Ah," Betty answered, but she laughed with him.

When they pulled up next to the trailer and his truck, which was frozen shut from sitting still so long, Betty asked, "How are you getting around these days?"

"Brad and Jeanette drop me off at school in the morning and Cassi brings me here after. Then Brad picks me up after work or later in the evening if I call and ask."

"But, like, how do you get around town? Other places?"

"I haven't really been anywhere else yet."

He turned off the engine and leaned across her to pop her door open for her.

"Polly said she saw you." Betty said. Jughead stopped stretched across her and then sat back stiffly. He didn't say anything.

"Did you come to my house, Juggie?" Betty persisted in a gentle voice.

He nodded, looking intently at her knees.

Betty raised his face up with a hand on his cheek. "Why didn't you come up? Why didn't you call?"

"I didn't know if you'd want to see me."

"Of course I wanted to see you. I wished every day we weren't together that I could see you."

"Well I didn't know that."

Betty leaned in to kiss him.

"I will always want to see you, Jughead Jones. No matter what."

Jughead leaned his forehead against hers and then said, "C'mon. Let's get you inside."

The trailer didn't feel much warmer than it was outside, but Jughead started up the space heaters in the living room. Betty stood watching him, aware that the same feeling that had engulfed her the last time they'd been there together was creeping over her again. She remembered the feel of him against her, his hands tangled in her hair, his lips trailing down her neck. She remembered his labored breathing and the wild look in his eyes. It had scared her a little bit, seeing a face that was normally so stoic and controlled unbridled like that. But it had excited her, too, more than it had scared her. She was already feeling warmer, the deep heat in her stomach spreading to flush the rest of her.

Jughead came back around to her and she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. He kissed her back, but the hard, closed-lip kisses they usually shared. When Betty tried to deepen it, he pulled back, looking confused. He held her at arms' length, regarding her curiously.

"I have some clothes you can borrow." He said quickly.

"Okay," Betty agreed, not at all satisfied. In her mind, he was all the warmth she needed.

Jughead turned and walked into the bedroom at the end of the short hallway, and Betty followed him to lean against the door frame. The room was dark, even after he flicked the light on, and dominated by the queen bed pushed against the far wall. Besides that, there was only a chest of drawers, which was scuffed and faded. She watched him get down on his knees and pull out the bottom drawer and reach to the back, reaching without looking, his hand feeling for something. It came back out with a balled-up flannel shirt—plaid, with intersecting red and blue and green lines and brown buttons up the front and at the wrists.

"I was pretty sure he kept a couple of her things," Jughead explained, handing her the shirt.

"Whose things?" Betty asked, then her eyes widened. "Is this your mom's?"

Jughead nodded.

"Juggie, I can't wear this."

"You put way too much importance on articles of clothing, Betts," Jughead grinned. "Just put it on."

Betty took off Jughead's leather jacket and handed it to him, then slipped her arms through the sleeves of the soft, worn flannel. She buttoned the bottom few buttons and looked up at him. The corner of his mouth twitched toward a smile.

"Beautiful," he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek where he murmured, "as always."

He left her in the bedroom, unzipping her boots and withdrawing each foot, and returned with his school bag, from which he pulled out a pair of blue athletic pants. Betty looked at him quizzically.

"Old habits," he said, shrugging, and she didn't press him for more information. They stood looking at each other for an awkward moment. Betty raised her eyebrows and gestured at him to turn.

"Oh," he said sheepishly, and spun around so she could pull the pants on under her skirt. She unzipped the skirt at her waist and shimmied it over her hips, then let it fall to the floor where she stepped out of it and toward Jughead. She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her cheek against his back, feeling his body stiffen and then relax into her. He put his hands over hers.

"Juggie?"

"Hm?"

"We should talk about the other night," she said.

"I thought we already did."

"Not the fight," Betty stammered. "What happened before that. What would have happened if the Serpents hadn't shown up."

Jughead didn't say anything, but she felt the stiffness return to his body and his hands hardened over hers.

"Juggie?"

"What's there to talk about?" he asked.

Betty felt her heart sinking. She started wondering if maybe she'd read more into the situation than she'd been meant to. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe the kiss had just been a kiss. But it had felt like a hell of a lot more than that. She dropped her arms and walked around to his front.

"You kissed me. And it wasn't like any other time," she insisted. "Don't tell me you didn't feel it."

"Look, Betty," he said, "I'm sorry if things went further than you wanted them to. I didn't mean for that to happen. You had just told me you loved me," he shrugged, "and I got caught up in the moment. I'm sorry."

Betty was hurt but she tried not to show it.

"That's not what I mean," she whispered. "Don't be sorry. I wanted it to happen."

Jughead's eyes snapped up to hers and flashed from one to the other, searching for something, though she wasn't sure what. Still, in that moment Betty could see that he wasn't remorseful, he was embarrassed. She took her face in his hands.

"Juggie, I love you." She asserted. "You're all I think about. You're the only one I want to be with. I never even thought of Archie that way."

Jughead scoffed and tossed his head.

"You can't tell me you never had a sex dream about Archie," he insisted.

Betty felt her face redden and she dropped her hands, her head shaking.

"Not like that!" she said. "I dreamed about him sometimes but I didn't dream about *that*."

"Sex," Jughead clarified.

"Yes, Jughead, sex." She replied in exasperation.

Jughead leaned in closer to her.

"I've had dreams about you," he said.

"You have?" Betty asked, and she was surprised that hearing that made her happy.

"Yes," he answered. He leaned his forehead against hers. Betty closed her eyes.

"I didn't mean to act on them, Betts," he said. "I never want to push you or…or make you think that's *all* I think about, because it's not. But I do think about it." She could feel his shoulders raise and lower again. "I can't help it with you."

Betty lifted up to kiss him. This time when she spread her lips around his to deepen the kiss, he didn't stop her.

"I think about it, too," she said when they parted.

"You do?" he pulled back as if surprised.

"Yes."

"About me?"

Betty laughed.

"Of course about you."

They regarded one another nervously for a few seconds and then Betty broke the silence.

"I want to be with you," she said. "Completely."

He took in a shaky breath.

"I love you, Betty," he said. "Nothing would make me happier. But...I just want you to be sure that's what you want."

"Why do you keep saying that? Why don't you believe me?"

"It just seems impossible," he admitted, and Betty smiled and ducked her head under his chin and he held her, listing gently from side to side like he was rocking her, and they soaked in everything they'd been missing for days, and they pressed their bodies together and felt one another through thin clothes and Jughead took in a long breath and kissed her again.

A/N: I've chosen to make this just a snapshot and end the story here. Please drop a line to let me know what your thoughts are! Hope you liked it!


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